William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (551 page)
Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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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 preferred
By thee to us, and he shall be interred
As soldiers can. Be cheerful. Wipe thine eyes.
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
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 preferred
By thee to us, and he shall be interred
As soldiers can. Be cheerful. Wipe thine eyes.
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
Exeunt with Cloten’s body
4.3Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pisanio
CYMBELINE
Again, and bring me word how ’tis with her.
Exit one or more
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! Innogen,
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. (To Pisanio) 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.
A madness of which her life’s in danger-heavens,
How deeply you at once do touch me! Innogen,
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. (To Pisanio) 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.
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.
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your
highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
A 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.
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.
CYMBELINE
The time is troublesome.
(To Pisanio) We’ll slip you for a season, but our jealousy
Does yet depend.
Does yet depend.
A 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.
Are landed on your coast with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen by the senate sent.
CYMBELINE
Now for the counsel of my son and queen!
I am amazed with matter.
I am amazed with matter.
A LORD
Good my liege,
Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you’re
ready.
The want is but to put those powers in motion
That long to move.
Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you’re
ready.
The want is but to put those powers in motion
That long to move.
CYMBELINE
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.
What can from Italy annoy us, but
We grieve at chances here. Away.
Exeunt Cymbeline and Lords
PISANIO
I heard no letter from my master since
I wrote him Innogen was slain. ‘Tis strange.
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I
What is betid to Cloten, but remain
Perplexed in all. The heavens still must work.
Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true.
These present wars shall find I love my country
Even to the note o’th’ King, or I’ll fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be cleared:
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
I wrote him Innogen was slain. ‘Tis strange.
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I
What is betid to Cloten, but remain
Perplexed in all. The heavens still must work.
Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true.
These present wars shall find I love my country
Even to the note o’th’ King, or I’ll fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be cleared:
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
Exit
4.4Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
GUIDERIUS
The noise is round about us.
BELARIUS
Let us from it.
ARVIRAGUS
What pleasure, sir, find we in life to lock it
From action and adventure?
From action and adventure?
GUIDERIUS
Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans
Must or for Britains slay us, or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.
Must or for Britains slay us, or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.
BELARIUS
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 mustered
Among the bands—may drive us to a render
Where we have lived, and so extort from ’s that
Which we have done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture.
To the King’s party there’s no going. Newness
Of Cloten’s death-we being not known, not mustered
Among the bands—may drive us to a render
Where we have lived, and so extort from ’s that
Which we have done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture.
GUIDERIUS
This is, sir, a doubt
In such a time nothing becoming you
Nor satisfying us.
Nor satisfying us.
ARVIRAGUS
It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quartered files, have both their eyes
And ears so cloyed importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know from whence we are.
Behold their quartered files, have both their eyes
And ears so cloyed importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know from whence we are.
BELARIUS
O, I am known
Of many in the army. Many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
From my remembrance. And besides, the King
Hath not deserved my service nor your loves,
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promised,
But to be still hot summer’s tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
From my remembrance. And besides, the King
Hath not deserved my service nor your loves,
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promised,
But to be still hot summer’s tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.
GUIDERIUS
Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th‘army.
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o’ergrown,
Cannot be questioned.
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o’ergrown,
Cannot be questioned.
ARVIRAGUS
By this sun that shines,
I’ll thither. What thing is’t that I never
Did see man die, scarce ever looked on blood
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison,
Never bestrid a horse save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne’er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.
Did see man die, scarce ever looked on blood
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison,
Never bestrid a horse save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne’er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.
GUIDERIUS
By heavens, I’ll go.
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I’ll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of Romans.
I’ll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of Romans.
ARVIRAGUS
So say I, amen.
BELARIUS
No reason I, since of your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My cracked one to more care. Have with you, boys!
If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed, too, lads, and there I’ll lie.
Lead, lead.
(Aside)
The time seems long. Their blood
thinks scorn
Till it fly out and show them princes born.
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My cracked one to more care. Have with you, boys!
If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed, too, lads, and there I’ll lie.
Lead, lead.
(Aside)
The time seems long. Their blood
thinks scorn
Till it fly out and show them princes born.
Exeunt
Enter Posthumus, dressed as an Italian gentleman, carrying a bloody cloth
POSTHUMUS
Yea, bloody cloth, I’ll keep thee, for I once wished
Thou shouldst be coloured thus. You married ones,
If each of you should take this course, how many
Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little! O Pisanio,
Every good servant does not all commands,
No bond but to do just ones. Gods, if you
Should have ta‘en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had lived to put on this; so had you saved
The noble Innogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults; that’s love,
To have them fall no more. You some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread ill, to the doer’s thrift.
But Innogen is your own. Do your blest wills,
And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither
Among th’Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady’s kingdom. ’Tis enough
That, Britain, I have killed thy mistress-piece;
I’ll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,
Hear patiently my purpose. I’ll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant.
Thou shouldst be coloured thus. You married ones,
If each of you should take this course, how many
Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little! O Pisanio,
Every good servant does not all commands,
No bond but to do just ones. Gods, if you
Should have ta‘en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had lived to put on this; so had you saved
The noble Innogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults; that’s love,
To have them fall no more. You some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread ill, to the doer’s thrift.
But Innogen is your own. Do your blest wills,
And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither
Among th’Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady’s kingdom. ’Tis enough
That, Britain, I have killed thy mistress-piece;
I’ll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,
Hear patiently my purpose. I’ll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant.
⌈
He disrobes himself
⌉
So I’ll fight
Against the part I come with; so I’ll die
For thee, O Innogen, 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‘th’ Leonati in me.
To shame the guise o’th’ world, I will begin
The fashion-less without and more within. Exit
5.2Against the part I come with; so I’ll die
For thee, O Innogen, 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‘th’ Leonati in me.
To shame the guise o’th’ world, I will begin
The fashion-less without and more within. Exit
⌈
A march.
⌉
Enter Lucius, Giacomo, and the Roman army at one door, and the Briton army at another, Leonatus Posthumus following like a poor soldier. They march over and go out.
⌈
Alarums.
⌉
Then enter again in skirmish Giacomo and Posthumus: he vanquisheth and disarmeth Giacomo, and then leaves him
GIACOMO
The 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 carl,
A very drudge of nature’s, have subdued me
In my profession? Knighthoods and honours borne
As I wear mine are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men and you are gods.
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 carl,
A very drudge of nature’s, have subdued me
In my profession? Knighthoods and honours borne
As I wear mine are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men and you are gods.
Exit
5.3The battle continues.
⌈
Alarums. Excursions. The trumpets sound a retreat.
⌉
The Britons fly, Cymbeline is taken. Then enter to his rescue Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus
BELARIUS
Stand, stand, we have th’advantage of the ground.
The lane is guarded. Nothing routs us but
The villainy of our fears.
The lane is guarded. Nothing routs us but
The villainy of our fears.
GUIDERIUS
and
ARVIRAGUS Stand, stand, and fight.
and
ARVIRAGUS Stand, stand, and fight.
Enter Posthumus like a poor soldier, and seconds the Britons. They rescue Cymbeline and exeunt
⌈
The trumpets sound a retreat
,⌉
then enter Lucius, Giacomo, and Innogen
LUCIUS (
to Innogen)
to Innogen)
Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
For friends kill friends, and the disorder’s such
As war were hoodwinked.
For friends kill friends, and the disorder’s such
As war were hoodwinked.
GIACOMO
’Tis their fresh supplies.
LUCIUS
It is a day turned strangely. Or betimes
Let’s reinforce, or fly.
Let’s reinforce, or fly.
Exeunt
5.5Enter Posthumus like a poor soldier, and a Briton Lord
LORD
Cam’st thou from where they made the stand?
POSTHUMUS I did,
Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
LORD Ay.
POSTHUMUS
No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost,
But that the heavens fought. The King himself
Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaught‘ring, having work
More plentiful than tools to do’t, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling
Merely through fear, that the strait pass was dammed
With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthened shame.
But that the heavens fought. The King himself
Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaught‘ring, having work
More plentiful than tools to do’t, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling
Merely through fear, that the strait pass was dammed
With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthened shame.
LORD
Where was this lane?
POSTHUMUS
Close by the battle, ditched, and walled with turf;
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
An honest one, I warrant, who deserved
So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
In doing this for ’s country. Athwart the lane
He with two striplings-lads more like to run
The country base than to commit such slaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cased, or shame-
Made good the passage, cried to those that fled
‘Our Britain’s harts die flying, not her men.
To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand,
Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save
But to look back in frown. Stand, stand.’ These three,
Three thousand confident, in act as many-
For three performers are the file when all
The rest do nothing-with this word ‘Stand, stand’,
Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, which could have turned
A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks;
Part shame, part spirit renewed, that some, turned
coward
But by example,-O, a sin in war,
Damned in the first beginnersl-gan to look
The way that they did and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o‘th’ hunters. Then began
A stop i’th’ chaser, a retire. Anon
A rout, confusion thick; forthwith they fly
Chickens the way which they stooped eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made; and now our cowards,
Like fragments in hard voyages, became
The life o‘th’ need. Having found the back door open
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!
Some slain before, some dying, some their friends
O’erborne i‘th’ former wave, ten chased by one,
Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty.
Those that would die or ere resist are grown
The mortal bugs o’th’ field.
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
An honest one, I warrant, who deserved
So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
In doing this for ’s country. Athwart the lane
He with two striplings-lads more like to run
The country base than to commit such slaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cased, or shame-
Made good the passage, cried to those that fled
‘Our Britain’s harts die flying, not her men.
To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand,
Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save
But to look back in frown. Stand, stand.’ These three,
Three thousand confident, in act as many-
For three performers are the file when all
The rest do nothing-with this word ‘Stand, stand’,
Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, which could have turned
A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks;
Part shame, part spirit renewed, that some, turned
coward
But by example,-O, a sin in war,
Damned in the first beginnersl-gan to look
The way that they did and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o‘th’ hunters. Then began
A stop i’th’ chaser, a retire. Anon
A rout, confusion thick; forthwith they fly
Chickens the way which they stooped eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made; and now our cowards,
Like fragments in hard voyages, became
The life o‘th’ need. Having found the back door open
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!
Some slain before, some dying, some their friends
O’erborne i‘th’ former wave, ten chased by one,
Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty.
Those that would die or ere resist are grown
The mortal bugs o’th’ field.
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