Complete Plays, The (458 page)

Cymbeline

Thou weep’st, and speak’st.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell’st. I lost my children:
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.

Belarius

Be pleased awhile.
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius:
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp’d
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
Of his queen mother, which for more probation
I can with ease produce.

Cymbeline

Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.

Belarius

This is he;
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp:
It was wise nature’s end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cymbeline

O, what, am I
A mother to the birth of three? Ne’er mother
Rejoiced deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
May reign in them now! O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.

Imogen

No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by ’t. O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker you call’d me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When ye were so indeed.

Cymbeline

Did you e’er meet?

Arviragus

Ay, my good lord.

Guiderius

 
And at first meeting loved;
Continued so, until we thought he died.

Cornelius

By the queen’s dram she swallow’d.

Cymbeline

O rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgement
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in. Where? how lived You?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,
From chance to chance: but nor the time nor place
Will serve our long inter’gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen,
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brother, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy: the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let’s quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.

To Belarius

Thou art my brother; so we’ll hold thee ever.

Imogen

You are my father too, and did relieve me,
To see this gracious season.

Cymbeline

All o’erjoy’d,
Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

Imogen

My good master,
I will yet do you service.

Caius Lucius

Happy be you!

Cymbeline

The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becomed this place, and graced
The thankings of a king.

Posthumus Leonatus

I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; ’twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow’d. That I was he,
Speak, Iachimo: I had you down and might
Have made you finish.

Iachimo

[Kneeling]
 
I am down again:
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
Which I so often owe: but your ring first;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.

Posthumus Leonatus

Kneel not to me:
The power that I have on you is, to spare you;
The malice towards you to forgive you: live,
And deal with others better.

Cymbeline

Nobly doom’d!
We’ll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon’s the word to all.

Arviragus

You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy’d are we that you are.

Posthumus Leonatus

Your servant, princes. Good my lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer: as I slept, methought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back’d,
Appear’d to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred: when I waked, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it: let him show
His skill in the construction.

Caius Lucius

Philarmonus!

Soothsayer

Here, my good lord.

Caius Lucius

Read, and declare the meaning.

Soothsayer

[Reads]
 
‘When as a lion’s whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty.’

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion’s whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leonatus, doth import so much.

To Cymbeline

The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call ‘mollis aer;’ and ‘mollis aer’
We term it ‘mulier:’ which ‘mulier’ I divine
Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp’d about
With this most tender air.

Cymbeline

This hath some seeming.

Soothsayer

The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee: and thy lopp’d branches point
Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stol’n,
For many years thought dead, are now revived,
To the majestic cedar join’d, whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.

Cymbeline

Well
My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar,
And to the Roman empire; promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;
Whom heavens, in justice, both on her and hers,
Have laid most heavy hand.

Soothsayer

The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplish’d; for the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen’d herself, and in the beams o’ the sun
So vanish’d: which foreshow’d our princely eagle,
The imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

Cymbeline

Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward: let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud’s-town march:
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we’ll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash’d, with such a peace.

Exeunt

The Winter’s Tale

T
ABLE
OF
C
ONTENTS

C
HARACTERS
OF
THE
P
LAY

A
CT
I

S
CENE
I. A
NTECHAMBER
IN
L
EONTES
’
PALACE
.

S
CENE
II. A
ROOM
OF
STATE
IN
THE
SAME
.

A
CT
II

S
CENE
I. A
ROOM
IN
L
EONTES
’
PALACE
.

S
CENE
II. A
PRISON
.

S
CENE
III. A
ROOM
IN
L
EONTES
’
PALACE
.

A
CT
III

S
CENE
I. A
SEA
-
PORT
IN
S
ICILIA
.

S
CENE
II. A
COURT
OF
J
USTICE
.

S
CENE
III. B
OHEMIA
. A
DESERT
COUNTRY
NEAR
THE
SEA
.

A
CT
IV

S
CENE
II. B
OHEMIA
. T
HE
PALACE
OF
P
OLIXENES
.

S
CENE
III. A
ROAD
NEAR
THE
S
HEPHERD
’
S
COTTAGE
.

S
CENE
IV. T
HE
S
HEPHERD
’
S
COTTAGE
.

A
CT
V

S
CENE
I. A
ROOM
IN
L
EONTES
’
PALACE
.

S
CENE
II. B
EFORE
L
EONTES
’
PALACE
.

S
CENE
III. A
CHAPEL
IN
P
AULINA
’
S
HOUSE
.

C
HARACTERS
OF
THE
P
LAY

Leontes
, king of Sicilia.
Mamillius
, young prince of Sicilia.
Camillo
,
 
Antigonus
,
 
Cleomenes
,
 
Dion
, four Lords of Sicilia.

Polixenes
, King of Bohemia.
Florizel
, Prince of Bohemia.
Archidamus
, a Lord of Bohemia.

Old Shepherd
, reputed father of Perdita.
Clown
, his son.
Autolycus
, a rogue.

Hermione
, queen to Leontes.
Perdita
, daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
Paulina
, wife to Antigonus.
Emilia
, a lady attending on Hermione,
Mopsa
 
and
 
Dorcas
, Shepherdesses.

A Gaoler
,
 
A Mariner
, other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and Servants, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.

Time
, as Chorus.

Scene: Sicilia, and Bohemia.